I snorted. “Old friend?”
“Semantics.”
A long sigh left my lungs. “I have my men looking into that. The question is, how do we kill him?”
“Well,” Alexei chuckled, “rumor has it you’re running with one hell of an assassin.”
He let the comment hang between us.
“It would be easier to kill him stateside.” I drummed my fingers against the wood. “From the emails we hacked, it seems the wedding will take place abroad.”
Varga was eager to have the matter settled. Which meant Loring wouldn’t want to delay shipping his daughter overseas. We’d blocked his daily calls, but it was only a matter of time before Amanda’s father found a way to make contact.
Something I would move heaven and earth to prevent. Boston was my city, and Loring wasn’t welcome.
She should have known that.
That I was the true king. That no one did anything without my say-so.
The fact that she hadn’t. That she pushed me away at every turn—while at the same time, she went to my brother with the details of the situation—gnawed at me. Granted, I understood why she told Cristiano. He said it was so he was prepared to protect Nicole.
But Amanda didn’t come to me.
I pushed down the surge of disappointment. It had been days, and she still hadn’t told me. We used to tell each other everything. Right now, my top priority was protecting her.
Amanda should have come to me.
Those words festered. My blood was septic, and my heart was rotten with the implications of her choices.
“Get him over here,” Alexei stated as if it were the simplest thing in the world to invite a war criminal to visit.
My phone vibrated. I flicked the screen and muttered, “How, pray tell, do I do that?”
Mandy: I need to leave. I can’t stay here. I have things to do.
Me: No leaving.
“Simple.” Alexei put his tablet back in his backpack and zipped it shut.
The ringtone blasted through the space. The caller ID was a photo of Amanda looking at a flower. She hadn’t known I was standing in the shop, hadn’t seen me pull up my phone and snap the picture. It was over a year old, but it captured her perfectly.
She hadn’t bought the flower that day.
“I’m finishing up in New York,” I answered, lifting my gaze to the swinging light fixture hanging over the desk. “I’ll see you for breakfast.”
“What are you doing, Enzo?” she demanded.
Alexei shifted in his creaky, wooden rolling chair. His head tipped to the side. The thick muscles of his neck stretched so he could try every word of the conversation.
“Working.” I hated being secretive with her. But since she was still a flight risk, the less she knew, the better. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Amanda fumed, a harsh breath that I could almost feel, flickering through the phone. “Fuck another woman behind my back, and I’ll find someone to screw. Got it?”
That jealous statement was unexpected. Shock reverberated down my spine. That was what she thought? I bristled. It would have been cute…if it didn’t send me into a blind rage a millisecond later.
I shot to my feet. My voice turned stern. “You touch another man, you sign his death warrant. Can you live with that on your conscience, fiore?”
I wanted to see her. Did my words send a thrill shivering down her spine? Was she ready to shoot me for claiming her? If I was there, I would plunder her mouth. Show her through a brutal kiss how possessive I really was.
